


What happens at the Quidditch world cup...

by Quentin_threepwood



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Harry Potter, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, M/M, Quidditch World Cup, Tent Sex, Top Viktor Krum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:40:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23716858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quentin_threepwood/pseuds/Quentin_threepwood
Summary: At the 2002 Quidditch World Cup, Viktor Krum lost. Harry provides some reassurance and something else.
Relationships: Viktor Krum/Harry Potter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 423





	What happens at the Quidditch world cup...

**Author's Note:**

> I was actually planning to turn this into a longer fic. But my brain couldn't congeal a second chapter beyond a few random ideas. 
> 
> I decided to turn what i had written into a one shot. I perhaps might write a full sequel one day.

**Quidditch World Cup 2002: Somewhere south of Bordeaux**

The bar was full of loud drunken Egypt supporters. Many of whom were dressed in ludicrous Pharaoh headdresses, and were drunkenly attempting to sing to Fly like an Egyptian. The bangles song had been co-opted by English supporters and they changed the words to be more quidditch related. “Ay oh whey oh, ay oh whey oh. Fly like an Egyptian!” One half naked supporter in an unfortunate amount of fake tan that was starting to border on racist, sang in Harry’s face. As he made his way towards the bar.

Slumped over the temporary bar, four empty pint glasses next to him. Viktor Krum was on his fifth beer. Clearly trying to drink himself into oblivion. “Another!” He said, dropping a couple of galleons into the hand of the bartender. 

“Do you need another?” Harry asked, approaching him hesitantly. “You played really well.”

“I LOST” Victor snapped with gritted teeth. Then he saw Harry and his head dropped, “sorry.”

“It’s okay. But you played well, isn’t that the important thing” Harry reasoned.

“They only tell that to losers” Viktor grimaced as he skulled his pint. 

Harry sighed, at least this would be a change from looking after a drunken Ron. “Let’s go for a walk” Harry suggested. “Take your mind off Quidditch.”

Viktor nodded and heaved himself up, he staggered a little and Harry caught him. His breath reeked of beer. As soon as the Egyptian supporters caught sight of Harry leading Viktor out, he received a chorus of boo’s. “Da ti eba maikata v gaza!” Viktor yelled back.

“Come on..” Harry said gripping his massive forearm tighter, as he led him out of the tent. It had gotten dark quite late, so the revelry was in full swing. Firework approximations of the Egyptian gods filled the skies dancing and moving against the stars.

Viktor was stopped staring at the skies. “It was going to be our year” Viktor contemplated. His accent got thicker when he drank. Harry led Viktor back to the Weasley camp, everyone had gone to bed and Charlie who was probably meant to be watching the fire. Passed out with an Egyptian scarf over his face. 

Harry tugged it off, and Charlie let out a loud snore. Viktor sat down on a log of wood and stared into the flames. “So what do you do when you're not at Quidditch?”

“Just quidditch. That’s it” Viktor sighed as he looked at Harry. “I thought I’d be married by now. Children, the whole thing” 

“You have time,” Harry said, patting Viktors leg. “You must get every girl wanting you.”

Viktor didn’t answer at first, he leaned over and placed his head in Harry’s lap. “I want someone who sees me, not just my fame.”

Harry nodded understanding, Viktor was a begrudging celebrity. He stroked Viktors hair, it was long and oily unkempt. “You will. You're a good person, any girl would be lucky or have you.”

“Boy” Viktor corrected rolling onto his back. It couldn’t have been comfortable, but he looked up at Harry. 

“Oh” Harry said, his mouth going dry. Viktor smiled and sat up and grabbed Harry's cheek pulling him in for a kiss. Firm and forceful, leading the way and taking control. His lips were dry and slightly chapped and he tasted of beer. But for some absurd reason, he couldn’t stop.

When Viktor pulled away he smirked. “Want to...shag?” He said clearly unsure he was using that correctly.

Harry grinned and nodded. “Err..sure” he said. And the two scrambled into his tent. At least he could make sure Viktor’s night ended on a good note. 

  
  


* * *

“Have you seen Harry?” Ron said to Hermione, opening a bottle of gin to add to his tea. 

“Hey. That’s not how you get rid of a hangover” Hermione frowned. “There’s sausages on the fire. Have those” She sighed.

“Fine” Ron sighed.

“Ron! I need a hand packing down the tent!” Mr Weasley called out.

“Dad. Can I not eat first? Get Harry to help!” Ron protested carefully picking up a sizzling sausage with his finger and wolfing it down. 

The tent flap to Harry's tent opened and Viktor Krum walked out his beefy muscular mountainous body on display in nothing but a pair of silk boxer shorts. The sausage almost fell out of his mouth as Viktor walked over and grabbed a t-shirt that had been draped over a chair. Nodded at Hermione then walked back into Harry's tent.

“Bloody hell. That's just unfair” Ron said looking down at his middle and prodding it. He shot a look at Hermione.

“No I didn’t know he was in there” Hermione insisted, knowing Ron’s jealous streak.

The tent flap opened and Harry walked out sheepish and a little dazed. Rubbing his eyes and slipping his glasses on.

“Ah. The walk of shame to the campfire” George said slapping Harry's back. 

It caused Harry to jump a foot in the air and loudly proclaim. “I don’t know what you're talking about!” Harry protested.

There was a snicker from Angelina, George's wife. Who was using her wand to untie a guide rope. “Harry. You were a little loud.”

Harry's face went as red as the Bulgarian Quidditch robes. As George grinned, “Viktor, Harder. Yes...Harder..Ohh!” George mimicked.

Harry hung his head in shame, Mortified.

“Come give me a hand Harry!” Mr Weasley said with a reassuring smile. Harry nodded pulling out his wand and unlacing the other guy rope. “Harry. Do whatever makes you happy. Molly and I will always support you.”

“I’m not. It was just once..” Harry replied uncertainly. Technically it had been twice.

“Don’t worry Harry. Ron would have if he could” George offered unhelpfully.

Viktor walked out of the tent fully dressed. He looked around, waved at Hermione and gave her a warm hug. Harry could only smirk at the look Ron was giving Vikors back. Hermione pointed at Harry, and his face went redder. Viktor walked over and grinned at Harry. “Thankyou for last night. I needed it” he said, kissing Harry firmly. “Can I send you an Owl?”

“Yeah. Course. Yeah” Harry nodded a little dumbfounded.

Viktor grinned like a kid at Christmas. Said goodbye to Ron, shaking his hand so tightly it looked like it’d bruise. Before walking off into the Melee of tents.

“He likes you,” George grinned. “Look at you..”

“Stop it,” Harry said with a smile.

“Come on. A Quidditch star in the family” George grinned. “Ron will be falling over himself over Dumb Krum”

“He’s not dumb” Harry replied blushing.


End file.
